Jungkook's dark gaze locked onto your lips, confusion swirling in his expressive eyes, his heart racing a million miles per hour as the moment's weight pressed down on him.
"I... kissed you?" he asked, disbelief lacing his voice as if the notion was too outrageous to consider.
"No. You are lying!" he snapped back at you, the tension in his voice intensifying. In an instinctive act fueled by his emotional turmoil, he grabbed your shoulder and slammed you against the cold, unyielding wall behind you. The sudden impact reverberated through your body, leaving a sting that mingled with the shock of his aggression.
"I would never do something like that," he declared, his voice low but fervent, desperation edging his words. "I don't even know how to..."
As he spoke, Jungkook paused abruptly, the air thickening with unspoken truths. His mind raced with thoughts he never intended to voice. He had never kissed anyone before, and the mere thought of sharing such an intimate moment terrified him. The idea of getting that close, of breaking down those emotional barriers with someone else, sent shivers down his spine. You could see the conflict in his expression—the battle between his pride and the vulnerability he was trying so hard to conceal.
"It wasn't me, so stop throwing shit my way because I won't buy it.
You were kissed because you are stupid and weak." He barked, his eyes becoming colder with each passing second.
He was boiling with rage, a tempest brewing inside him that felt almost suffocating. The mere thought of his own body inching closer to someone else, as if it had a mind of its own, twisted his stomach into knots. A visceral disgust churned within him, clawing at the edges of his sanity.
He felt an intense hatred—not just directed at you, but aimed squarely at himself. It was a loathing that ran deep, rooted in his inability to assert control over his own actions. That familiar sense of powerlessness washed over him again, leaving him trapped in a cage of skin and muscle, his essence at odds with his will. Each breath he took felt heavy with the weight of his frustration, and the fight against his own body made him feel more like a stranger in his skin.
You never anticipated that he would react the way he did. You had spent time reading about dissociative identity disorder, absorbing the knowledge that an individual could, without warning, become a vessel for an alternate personality, utterly unaware of the actions or words that transpired during those moments. It felt as though another soul had seamlessly taken control of his body, and while you had researched the condition, the sheer reality of experiencing it first-hand made it challenging to fathom just how isolating and terrifying it could be for someone caught in such turmoil.
At that moment, you began to grasp the profound differences between this version of Jungkook and the charming, carefree playboy you were more accustomed to. It became evident that there were layers to him—complexities that demanded time and patience to understand honestly.
Then, as if a switch had been flipped, he unleashed a torrent of harsh words aimed directly at you. The sting of his insults hit you like ice water, catching you entirely off guard. No one had ever dared to belittle you so brazenly, let alone shout harsh accusations of weakness and stupidity directly in your face. It was a painful surprise, and you swallowed hard, fighting to keep your composure while an overwhelming swell of emotion threatened to consume you. Your eyes began to sting with unshed tears, and the knot in your throat tightened, making it increasingly challenging to form a response or even catch your breath.
In that instant, as much as you wanted to argue against his cruel jibes, a piece of truth lingered in the air. Perhaps, at that precise moment, you were exhibiting a form of weakness—an emotional vulnerability that had emerged from the whirlwind of events that had unfolded. You had let your guard down, enveloping his tender side in your embrace, attempting to provide solace and comfort. But before you could even absorb the warmth of that connection, it felt as if an entirely different persona had stepped in, eclipsing the kindness you had just experienced and looming over you with an intimidating presence. It was bewildering and unsettling, leaving you grappling with the drastic shift in his demeanor and the shadows it cast over your heart.
"Just give me that damn medicine and let's wrap this up," Jungkook murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he pulled himself away from you. His tone was tinged with frustration, cutting through the haze of your thoughts and jolting you back into reality. Your heart raced, the sudden adrenaline rush palpable as you absorbed his words. The moment's weight hung in the air, intensifying your feelings and leaving you momentarily speechless.
_
"You don't care what might happen to you?" I asked, my voice steady despite the swirling emotions inside me. The substance I was holding, this thing I had to inject, would flow into your bloodstream the moment one of your alternate selves seized control of your body. As I spoke, I lost myself in his penetrating dark eyes. They felt like they could see through me, unveiling all my thoughts, fears, desires, and hidden ambitions. A sense of fear washed over me, but it was an unusual kind of fear—one I struggled to comprehend.
I quickly broke our eye contact, feeling the heat of a blush creep up my cheeks under the intensity of his gaze, which felt both unsettling and oddly captivating.
"Why do you care about what might happen to me? It means nothing to you," he replied, his tone laced with a mix of defiance and vulnerability that tugged at my heartstrings.
At that moment, I couldn't shake the thought from my mind—he was the real Jungkook. This man before me, with all his complexities and contradictions, was the essence of him. I threw another sideways glance in his direction, searching for any hint of the truth behind his bravado.
"I don't care," he added dismissively, but the knot in my stomach tightened at his words as if they somehow struck a chord deep within me.
"Maybe you don't care, but I do," I responded, my voice firm yet filled with concern. "I can't bear the idea of being responsible for someone's death. I honestly don't know how your body would react if I were to administer this to you right now. I refuse to take any risks."
A heavy silence followed the weight of our unspoken fears lingering between us, a palpable tension that neither of us seemed ready to break.
"Alright, just don't regret it later because of your stubbornness and stupidity," he remarked, a sneer curling his lips in a defiant smile. Each syllable dripped with condescension as if he reveled in my discomfort.
A prickly chill raced down my spine, forcing me to step backward instinctively. The figure before me exuded a dark energy, his smirk almost palpable with malevolence. He stood confidently, an eyebrow arched with a challenging curiosity.
As I cautiously took another step backward, his smile grew wider, revealing a hint of mischief. He stood with his hands buried deep in his pants pockets, his posture relaxed yet predatory. With an unwavering gaze, he stepped toward me, his eyes roaming slowly, taking in every detail of my figure.
My heartbeat thundered in my ears, each thump echoing the tension in the air as he approached, closing the distance between us. His eyes, now darker and more intense, eventually locked onto mine, laden with a mix of desire and intrigue. It was the same intoxicating look he had given me the last time, full of lust and an undeniable hunger that made the air around us feel electric.
***
Jungkook chuckled softly, a light and playful sound that lingered in the air as he watched you suddenly run away as if you had seen the devil itself. Your quick departure was both funny and puzzling, creating a storm of emotions within him—he felt a thrill in his chest, curiosity buzzing in his head, and a warm excitement spreading through him.
He casually leaned against the cool wall, feeling its rough texture grounding him as he slowly closed his eyes. In the surrounding silence, he took a deep breath to help steady his racing heart, which was pounding with excitement and curiosity.
Even after you had hurried off, he couldn't forget the lingering scent of your perfume that hung in the air. This sweet and captivating fragrance seemed to wrap around him like a cozy hug, drawing him deeper into his powerful attraction for you. It was a feeling that was both frustrating and downright thrilling.
With a mischievous smirk playing on his lips, he boldly grasped the front of his pants, the fabric taut against the warmth of his skin. An overwhelming heat swirled within him, a mix of desire and urgency ignited solely by your presence.
It had been far too long since he had fucked someone, and the craving was becoming almost unbearable.
Damn. Why did you have to be so intoxicatingly beautiful?